


Slow Show

by vesper_house



Series: Before Dawn [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Harold they're gay, M/M, the letter E tells you everything you need to know about this chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vesper_house/pseuds/vesper_house
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not yet the World's Finest, but they will get there eventually.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Show

**Author's Note:**

> The wait is over! 
> 
> Title taken from a song by [The National](https://youtu.be/9kP7Z0Mg31o) (I freaking love this band). 
> 
> Thank you for your patience. Enjoy!

\---

Clark does not meet up with Bruce anymore. Batman however… That is a different story.

Their cooperation started off with a pretty big success. They have managed to break a human traffic chain operating throughout the whole east coast. It was not as straightforward as Clark would like it to be though. For one thing, it was impossible to _schedule_ anything with Batman – he just showed up in Metropolis whenever he pleased. Sometimes it was somewhere near the Daily Planet, but never even remotely close to Clark’s apartment, and, of course, always in the middle of the night. If he received a cryptic message or some sort of a hint on his business email beforehand, Clark considered himself lucky. Otherwise he was straining his ears the whole night, waiting for that familiar heartbeat to announce the arrival of the bat. Not that Superman and Batman had any proper verbal conversations: it was usually nothing more than a simple exchange of information, devoid of any suggestions that people underneath the suits were once lovers. Clark tried to lighten up the mood once or twice, including offering Batman a lift home. The freezing cold glare that came afterwards effectively discouraged him from that kind of behavior. Neither Clark nor Superman ever went to Gotham: even though Batman did not explicitly forbid him from coming, it was clear how he felt about his territory.

In the end, Superman did not do much except fly the kidnapped girls back home. Clark on the other hand redeemed himself in the eyes of Perry White with a series of insightful, sharp articles that one by one denuded the human trafficking problem in the United States. In the published stories, he reduced Batman’s involvement to a minimum – he felt that Bruce would appreciate it, just like Clark appreciated the fact that this time there were no victims of bat branding among the arrested criminals. Still, it was not a good idea to create a link between Batman and Superman for the public eye to see and judge. Not when their newly-formed teamwork was more fragile than porcelain. Not when Bruce and Clark were over.

The sleek black smartphone did not beep even once since their talk at the Presque Vu. Clark feels like he had done everything he could to make this work. He was the bigger man. He proposed a truce. He reached for Bruce’s hand in the elevator. He believed that they could go back to what happened in Bruce’s car and start from there. All he wanted was an apology. Instead, Bruce completely disappeared from his life and replaced himself with the bat. If this was everything he could get, Clark was willing to take it. Anything to keep the man under the mask in his life.

Winter caught them engaged in this weird dance of not-talking, pretending not to remember, but trying to do good nevertheless. Since he did not know the steps nor the rhythm, Clark was emotionally drained from the mood swings it caused. He welcomed the Christmas time with a sigh of relief, hoping that going home for a little while would put his mind at ease.

It is a quiet, snowless Christmas Eve in Smallville. Clark washes the dishes while Ma pours them some of her homemade eggnog. They have visited the cemetery, had dinner, and now they are going to watch _It’s a Wonderful Life_ for the millionth time. That annual ritual made them both feel like happiness could last forever.

“I miss snow.” Ma says as she takes her first sip. “It’s a shame we don’t get a lot of it in Kansas. I think there was only one time when we had a truly white Christmas. You were four… or five? Do you remember that?”

“Not really to be honest.” Clark says and joins her at the kitchen table. “Next year we should go for a trip. Somewhere with a lot of snow. Maybe Aspen?”

“You’re sweet,” she smiles at him. “But I hope we’re going to take your girlfriend with us.”

 “Then I propose a toast,” Clark says quickly, hoping that she will not push the subject any further. “For a white Christmas. Next year, that is.”

“For a white Christmas.” They clink their glasses and drink in silence. “Hmm, I think I should’ve made it stronger.”

“Ma, even I can feel it’s pure alcohol.” Clark says. He kind of likes it anyway.

“Oh shush, it’s Martha Stewart’s recipe!” She laughs and drinks some more. “So you’re telling me there’s no one special in your life right now?”

Clark hesitates before speaking up and of course, that is all the answer Ma needs. “Are you still not over Lois?”

“Ma, believe me when I say we’re just friends.” Clark replies. “I can count on her but there’s nothing romantic between us anymore.”

“So why are you sighing all the time?” Ma asks, voice gentle and caring. “You put on your shoes and you sigh, you set the table and you sigh, you look outside the window and you sigh. There’s no need to pretend, Clark. I’ve known you long enough to recognize when you’re broken-hearted. Please, tell me what happened?”

Clark’s heart leaps in his throat. His mother will love him no matter what, he knows this: she loved him before she even knew what he really was – or despite that to put every possibility into consideration. They have shared every secret, yet Clark’s sexuality was not something they ever really talked about.

“So much happened, Ma.” He admits. “I’m not sure where to start.”

“How about from the beginning, hmm? I’ve got plenty of time.” She gives him a reassuring smile. In that moment, Clark loves her more than life itself.

“It’s… not about a girl, actually.” Clark mumbles. He looks down and scratches the back of his neck. “Two months ago I’ve met… a man. And then we… You know.” He makes a weird, nervous gesture with both of his hands, believing that she will understand.

“Aha.” She does. Her eyebrows go up just a little bit. “This is new.”

“Yeah, it is.” Clark says with a heavy heart. “It’s not that I don’t like women because I do, but he is...” another odd gesture, “I didn’t plan on having feelings for a guy. I guess I just… like whom I like.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, dear.” She covers Clark’s hand with hers. “I think you didn’t have enough time to figure this out earlier. When boys and girls at school started to notice each other, you had other things to worry about, right?”

“Well, yeah, but then I grew up, Ma…” Clark did not think he would be this shy while having this discussion. “Then _he_ happened.”

“Does he have a name? Sounds like he must be a very special somebody.”

 “He’s… one of a kind.” Clark says quietly. “And his name is Bruce.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Ma coos. “Bruce. Makes me think of a character from an old movie. Something with detectives and dangerous women who wear pearls and black satin.”

“Please don’t get use to it,” Clark interrupts, although the description hits close to home. “It’s not like we’re going to be together.”

“And why is that?”

Clark has to take a deeper breath. It is a shame that the eggnog cannot affect him. “We weren’t actually dating in the first place. It was something… casual. Which I didn’t like, as you probably already know. I’ve told him I needed something more and surprisingly he felt the same… I mean, I think that’s how he felt. Everything was going great but then…” Clark stops to think of how much truth he can reveal without worrying Ma. “We had a fight. A big one. We talked about it and I thought we were going to move on but we didn’t. He never apologized to me and now we don’t talk to each other, but we’re sort of working together, so I get to see him quite often. He acts like nothing ever happened between us, so I roll with it… And I don’t know what else I could do.” Clark bangs his forehead on the table and sighs. “You know, I feel a little better now.” What he has said is, of course, just the tip of an iceberg. He tries very hard to hide it.

Ma fills their glasses with more eggnog. “Clark, is he trustworthy? I need you to think about it. Don’t let feelings cloud your judgement.”

Clark was always very careful when it came to getting attached to people. Figures why he was alone for the most of his life. Bruce’s case is different, almost like a divine intervention. Of all the people on Earth, he have met the one who shares the same secret, who chose a path so similar to his. It is hard to view their intimacy as a mistake, but it cannot be denied that they hold each other in check now. The knowledge gives power to them both and cages them all the same. For better or worse, they are connected.

“Yes.” He says after a while. “Possibly more than anyone I’ve met before.”

“I hope so. Do you want an honest advice or one that suits you the most?”

“…I can’t have both?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“Give me the honest one then.”

“Forget about him,” Ma says sternly. “If he really wanted to have you in his life, he would do anything to keep you in it. And you certainly shouldn’t get involved with a man who doesn’t apologize. It’s like asking for trouble.”

Clark nods. He can hear the cracks forming on his already wounded heart.

“However,” Ma continues, “you can also try to talk to him again. Set things straight. Give it another chance. Otherwise you will always feel that you could’ve done more to save this relationship. It will poison your soul. As much as I would love to protect you from disappointment, I can see that you haven’t given up on him yet. Perhaps mister Bruce is worth fighting for.”

 _It’s a Wonderful Life_ starts playing on the TV in the living room. No one stands up to get there. Clark thinks about everything Ma said to him. Now he understands what the two kinds of advice mean. He smiles at her tiredly.

“Thank you for loving me.”

“I’m your mother, it’s my goddamn job.” She pats his cheek affectionately. “And you’re so easy to love. Mister Bruce better realize it fast or I’ll break his face.”

“I can take care of myself, Ma.” Clark rolls his eyes jokingly.

“Someone has to protect you, dear.” Ma drinks the eggnog and hums. “Can I at least see a picture of this dreamboat?”

“Sorry, I don’t have any,” _but google has plenty,_ Clark muses. “Wait. Would your advice be any different if you knew what he looks like?”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to know if he’s handsome or not,” she says with a playful grin.

“Ma…”

“What? Do you think I chose your father only because of his great personality?” She laughs. Clark thinks she should do it more often. “Let me tell you, back in the days Jonathan Kent was a real treat for the eyes…”

“MOTHER.”

“Okay, alright, I’m done. Let’s go and watch the movie, shall we?”

They spend the rest of the evening on the couch, laughing and crying at the exact same moments as they did the year before, and years before that. Some things never change. It is the greatest comfort one can have in this world.

\---

Clark floats lightly just above the stratosphere. New Year’s Eve might be his favorite day of the year. He loves to watch as the fireworks paint the sky all around the globe, colorful and sparkly like tiny supernovas. Right now Europe is alight. Lois greets the New Year in Brussels: she said it is because of a scoop, but Clark suspects the trip might have something to do with a charming, German war correspondent. It is getting close to midnight on the East coast. Soon Metropolis is going to burst with happy cheers and bright lights. Up here everything is tranquil. Clark would not dare to say that the cosmos is silent, and yet the white noise of the endless space brings him comfort. Maybe it is because of his proximity to the sun, but he feels peaceful.

No. That is a lie. Ma’s words resonate loudly in his brain: _you haven’t given up on him yet._ Clark cannot stop thinking about how easy it would be to find Bruce among the billions of people on Earth. He wonders what is the man doing: did he go to a party? Maybe organized one by himself? Does he like it? Or is the bat on patrol tonight, roaming through Gotham’s darkest alleys?

The best way to deal with temptation is to yield to it, or so people say. Clark closes his eyes and listens to the busy streets of Gotham and after a moment… _there you are._ He makes a small noise at the back of his throat when Bruce’s calm, balanced heartbeat starts drumming in his ears. So he is not fighting, at least not yet.

 _Oh, to hell with it,_ Clark thinks and flies back to the ground.

\---

Turns out that Bruce is standing on the highest terrace of the Wayne Tower – elegant, alone, and very much not in the bat-mode. It is cold outside but the sky is crystal clear. Bruce will have a spectacular view when the fireworks start to explode. Clark observes him from afar. Perhaps he should go back home, just get away as far as possible, but he was never smart with love. He descends slowly, gently, like he is about to approach a wild animal. 

It is the sound of the cape floating in the wind that makes Bruce look up. His facial expression does not change when he realizes that Clark is getting closer. Perhaps he was waiting for him all along.  

“Sir, may I see your invitation?” It is Bruce who speaks first. Clark lands softly on the hard floor, minding the distance between them.

“I think I’ve lost it. My plan was to arrive late and bribe the bouncers.”

“I’m afraid they wouldn’t let you in anyway. You’ve violated the dress code.”

“And what kind of dress code was that?” Clark decides to play the game because it feels just like the night they have met.

“Black and white ball.”

“Huh. I didn’t get the memo.”

“You should fire your assistant then.” Bruce’s one-sided smirk shows up on his face and Clark is gone.

“It’s good to see you,” he says, hoping that Bruce knows it means _it’s good to see you without the mask._

“Why you’re here?” Wayne asks. It seems that he is not angry, just genuinely curious.   

“I… have to ask you something I guess.” Clark mumbles, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“Go on.”

It is not the first time when words fail Clark like that. Usually it happens behind his desk at the Planet, when he struggles to meet the deadline and that one, perfect sentence suddenly just erases itself from his mind. Now it is much, much more scary.

“Do you… remember what we’ve talked about in your car? Right before… everything changed?”

“I do.”

“Good.” Clark does not know what to do with his hands. He decides to cross them on his chest. “So, yeah… I wanted to let you know that I… still feel the way I’ve felt that day. It’s stupid but I can’t pretend that nothing ever happened between us. But I’m… confused. I don’t understand why you stopped talking to me. I like that we’re trying to work together, but I thought you’d be a part of my private life as well.”

The whistle of the wind is all the response he gets. It messes Bruce’s neatly styled hair – the bangs almost cover his eyes now. Clark has to stop himself from putting it back in place. _I’ll never be allowed to do that_ – the bitter thought makes his chest ache.

“Anyway…” Clark sighs heavily. “If we’re done, we’re done. I just couldn’t stand this state of… suspension, or whatever it was. I like it when things are clear. New year, fresh start and all that.”

“I didn’t know how to apologize,” Bruce blurts out of the blue, eyes on the floor, “for what I was trying to do to you.”

Clark bites his lower lip and decides to wait for more. Bruce does not disappoint.

“Leaving you alone seemed like the best option.”

 _So you couldn’t hurt me anymore,_ Clark thinks.

“I thought you were disgusted by me.” He says, his throat painfully tight.

“Never.” Bruce denies quickly. “I know I can’t make it up to you. No matter how sorry I am, it doesn’t change the past.”

Clark looks down on the street. People are getting more and more excited with every minute. On a night like this, it can only mean one thing.

“There’s something you could do to make it up to me.” Clark says. “I mean… If you want to.”

Bruce’s face is unreadable when he asks: “What is it?”

Clark moves closer and once again he is struck by how much it reminds him of their first encounter. Bruce smells of cinnamon, is tall, broad, powerful, and completely irresistible. However, this time they are no one else but themselves: no billionaire-and-reporter charade to hide behind and conceal what is really going on. Clark wraps his arms around the man and holds him close. Bruce reciprocates the gesture a little stiffly.

“Hold on tight.” Clark smiles and starts floating. Bruce clings to him instantly.

“That’s going to be quite a headline if someone snaps a picture,” he says with pursed lips.

“Drunk billionaire saved by Superman after mistaking a window with a restroom door. That does have a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say? But you’re right, better get out of the camera’s reach.” Clark speeds up so they can touch the sky: Bruce, the bastard, does not even flinch. He also pretends that the frosty air does not bother him, yet Clark sees right through it.

“We better huddle up for warmth,” he suggests.

“You can’t feel the cold, can you?”

“No, but let’s have this conversation some time later.” Clark looks down. “Enjoy the show.”

Fireworks erupt beneath their feet. More and more of them flare up with every passing second until they cannot even see the city anymore – it is covered by a blinding sea of light. Clark fails to decide which color he likes the most. Red and gold take the lead, so he turns to Bruce to ask which one is prettier. The man is not looking at the fireworks at all, eyes focused on Clark instead.

Clark’s heart beats so hard and fast that he is sure Bruce can feel and hear it. He blushes a little, suddenly aware of every single detail on Bruce’s handsome face.

“Happy New Year, mister Wayne,” he whispers. The kiss is patient, exploring, and could last forever. Bruce breaks it with a quiet hum.

“I need to show you something,” he murmurs against Clark’s lips.

\---

To tell the truth, Clark never thought of how much effort it takes to be the Batman. As he takes careful steps around the batcave, he starts to really appreciate Bruce’s dedication. After all, this is what he have built from scratch. With his money and opportunities, he could have an easy life, thread lightly through the days without any major problems. He could also throw himself entirely into the playboy lifestyle and OD in someone’s pool, but no – Bruce chose to have a mission. No matter how insane the idea seems at first, he has been faithful to it since day one, sticking to the path despite the doubts. Clark has many questions. He steps down from the entresol to join Bruce by the car.

Bruce looks like he is about to jump out of his skin. His body is tense, arms crossed, feet placed firmly on the ground. A thin straight line shows up where lips should be. He is going to bite any second now, like a predator protecting its territory. Perhaps being Batman does not cost him as much as Clark thought when they entered the hideout – unlike Clark, he had enough time to get used to the double life. Trusting Superman on the other hand… Now that is a real effort. Clark concludes that his questions can wait – all of them except one:

“May I have some tea now, please?”

Bruce’s shoulders rise and fall slightly when he sighs with relief.

\---

“Your house is a porn set. Very expensive, designer, exclusive porn set.”

“I honestly don’t know if I should feel offended or flattered.”

“Glass walls, Bruce? Really?” Clark walks around the place and shakes his head a little, carrying a porcelain cup filled with black tea. “Have you ever tried being subtle about anything in your life?”

“I did once,” there is a dirty smirk on Bruce’s face. “Almost lost a chance to sleep with you because of it.”

Clark rolls his eyes. “Don’t you ever feel anxious when you’re displayed like that? Anyone could sneak in and watch your every move.”

“No one will sneak in,” Bruce says. “I took care of it. And I find the glass walls quite soothing to be honest. Makes me feel close to the nature.”

Clark looks outside. There are two sunbeds placed on a small wooden terrace next to the lake. _Here I could just lie in the sun for the whole morning_ , Clark thinks with excitement. He turns around to have a look at Bruce who is lounging on the sofa. Wood cracks merrily in the fireplace, the lights are dim, and they are one camera and a bedroom-ready song away from actually making a porno.

“Why you’re smiling like that?” Bruce asks. The top buttons of his shirt are open and his bowtie hangs loose. He knows very well that he looks good.

“Nothing.” Clark walks to him slowly. At this point words are useless. He puts the teacup on a glass table and kisses Bruce hungrily.

“Clark…”

“Hmm?”

“You’re floating.”

“It’s more comfortable.”

“So is this how it’s going to be from now on?” Bruce asks with a small smile.

“Only if you want to,” Clark assures him.

Bruce puts a hand on his chest and rubs gently at the symbol. “So how do I get this thing off of you?” The low purr in his voice makes Clark’s skin tingle.

“You don’t get to do that,” he says, landing soundlessly on the floor. “It belonged to my family on Krypton. It’s sacred. I won’t let you ruin it with your dirty, sinful hands.” Clark takes the cape off and folds it carefully to estimate his point.

“By all means, please continue.” Bruce says invitingly.

Clark does not want to waste any more time: blood thuds too wildly through his body, leaving no room for any kind of patience. He swiftly gets rid off the boots and grabs at the zipper.

“Let me see,” Bruce pleads.

It sounds so sweetly that Clark simply cannot resist. He turns around so Bruce can see his back and slowly pulls down the zipper. Next thing he knows, Bruce drags him on the sofa and licks, bites, kisses the exposed skin with such an incandescent intent that for a moment Clark is positively breathless. Bruce’s tongue slides from the small of his back right up to his nape. Teeth scrape the sensitive part between Clark’s shoulder blades and _good god,_ he needs to set some things straight before he loses his mind.

“Bruce,” Clark says softly, yet eager to regain control. “Would it be okay if I use my powers?”

Pause. Clark swears that he can hear ratchet wheels spinning like crazy inside Bruce’s brain. Perhaps he is not _that_ sexually open.

“I draw the line at laser eyes,” the man finally says.

Clark immediately strips and flies both of them to the bed – everything done in super speed.

“It’s called heat vision,” he corrects, lying on top of very confused Bruce who is still trying to comprehend what the hell happened.

“Whatever,” Bruce mumbles. Then all of a sudden he claps his hands twice: the bedside lamps start to shine with a soft, amber light. Clark laughs a little bit, but Bruce’s lips steal any comment he might have wanted to add. He moans into the kiss which is deep and wet and dirty – just how he likes it best, then takes Bruce’s hand into his just for the simple pleasure it brings. His body comes alive with every exciting brush of skin on skin and he missed this so much that he is trembling now. It is _good,_ they have always been so good for each other in a way neither of them could explain. Must be a kind of magic. Clark glides his other hand through Bruce’s defined abs, feels the fuzz of his lover's happy trail and moves lower to…

“Shit, shit,” Bruce grunts unhappily. “Just give me a minute to catch up, okay?”

“Yeah, it’s okay,” Clark assures him.

Bruce moves them so they can both lie on their sides. His big, warm hands slide up and down Clark’s body like he is something that needs to be cherished with every touch.

“You’re beautiful” he whispers. Clark realizes that Bruce got… shy. He does not dare to make a comment, just deepens the kiss with all the passion he can muster up. _Try to tune into him,_ a tiny voices suggests at the back of his mind. They make out for what feels like ages when Bruce places Clark’s palm on his half hard dick. He shows him wordlessly how to grab and stroke it, so in a matter of seconds Clark can feel it growing in his hand and becoming the delicious thickness he had fantasized about during lonely nights. He brings their shafts together and fondles them forcefully, smearing mixed precum all over the hardened flesh. Then he remembers something.

“On your back,” Clark says quietly.

Bruce does not protest and makes himself comfortable: he even puts a pillow under his head. Clark’s in awe when he sees how much space Bruce’s body takes on the California king bed. Who would have thought that he has a thing for large men.

“Enjoying the view?” Bruce asks.

“You have no idea,” Clark smiles and bows down so he can lick at Bruce’s bellybutton. He wets it vigorously with saliva and then lets out a brief, freezing cold breath.

“Oh!” Bruce gasps. His hips thrust up violently, so Clark has to pin them down hard before continuing. He replaces the cold with the warmth of his mouth, then does the trick again. And again. Bruce’s entire body snaps. Clark teases the center of the bellybutton with just a tip of his tongue… and then he makes it vibrate.

“FUCK!” Bruce jerks up and pets Clark’s head. “If you keep doing that I’m gonna come, I swear…”

“Hell no,” Clark moves forward to bite Bruce’s lower lip. “I’m not done with you.”

“Oh really?” Bruce smirks. “What else have you got?”

“Let’s start with some lube, hmm?”

“In the right drawer.”

Clark reaches for it without thinking. Bruce’s sudden giggle surprises him.

“What?”

“You’re floating again.”

“I can stop if it bothers you…”

“No, no,” Bruce shakes his head. “It’s just surreal, alright? It will take a while before I get used to it.”

“There’s no rush” Clark says and feels it is the truth. He drops the bottle of lube on Bruce’s chest and flops on his back. “Now it’s your turn.”

He does not need to say it twice: a single second passes and Bruce is between his spread legs, opening Clark carefully with his long fingers. Clark shuts his eyes and whines just a little, head turned to the side and mouth pressed to his shoulder. His cock leaves sticky traces of precum all over his abdomen.

“Ready?” Bruce asks, voice loaded with lust.

“Yes, do it,” Clark replies and next thing he knows Bruce is everywhere, above him, inside of him, right next to his face, _fuck,_ Clark loves it so fucking much. The thick, heavy cock nearly splits him in two and he spreads his legs even wider. Bruce penetrates him slowly, way too slow.

“Harder” he whispers into Bruce’s ear and _oh,_ he gives it to him vehemently, trying to make up for over a month of separation. How could they even last that long without this beautiful debauchery of theirs, as natural and necessary as air. At one point Clark’s head starts to hit the headboard repeatedly. He looks up at the ceiling and almost shakes when an idea arrives in his mind.

“Hold on now,” he tells Bruce before gently raising them from the bed.

“What are you…” Wayne frowns. Sweat drips from his squinted brow.

“You’ll love it,” Clark reassures him with a smooch on the lips.

He makes sure that Bruce’s body is completely aligned with his and floats upwards. He pins Bruce to the ceiling, hands splayed on the broad chest, his legs securing the other man’s weight. His lover looks like he is not enitrely sure if he likes this particular change of setting, so Clark starts to ride him harshly.

“Is that good?” He asks.

“Unusual,” Bruce blurts out. Despite the uncertainty, his cock stays rock hard.

“You know what else I can do, Bruce?” Clark says, eyes locked on his lover’s face. “I have an x-ray vision.”

“I’ve heard about it,” Bruce responds. His pulse is speeding up and he digs nails into Clark’s hips, which tells Clark that he does not have much time left.

“You wanna know what I did, Bruce? Back in your town house?” He lowers his head so they are face to face. “When you were coming in my ass for the first time, I saw it. I saw it all.”

Bruce’s jaw drops.

“I’ll do it again now,” he bounces with more force. “So come on, give it to me, I know you can’t wait…”

Bruce looks like he just lost his mind. All he can do is gasp with each powerful thrust of Clark’s hips. Clark can see and feel him getting tense, so he pushes even faster. Bruce shuts his eyes, bites his lips, he is so close, Clark cheers for him with a string of sweet nonsense like _aha, aha, yeah, oh, give it to me, Bruce…_

Bruce comes with a loud yelp, spasms tearing his whole body apart. At the same moment Clark takes his hand.

“Here,” Clark whispers hoarsely as he places it on his stomach. “See how deep you are? Oh god, there’s so much cum, you have no idea…”

Clark looks up. He cannot believe in what he sees with his own two eyes. There is an actual, tiny, salty tear running down Bruce’s cheek. He will treat it as a badge of honor for the rest of his life. But first, he needs to come, or else he might end up with an irreversible body damage. He flies them back to the bed and jerks off faster than any normal human ever could. Laces of cum end up on Bruce’s chest and abs; some of it hits his chin. Clark flops beside the other man, realizing how exhausted he really is.

“You…” Judging by how hard it is for Bruce to speak up, he must feel the same. “You’ve ruined me for the mankind.”

“Good.” Clark smiles weakly. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” Bruce agrees.

They stay like that for a little longer – strung out, overpowered, holding hands the whole time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jesus Christ, I cannot believe this is the end!
> 
> I would like to thank you all for your kudos, comments, and lovely messages - this story wouldn't get anywhere without your support. I still can't believe that some of you liked it enough to wait for the next part with anticipation, or that you've read it a couple of times. Like, wow. This is the first time I've contributed to the fandom (and SuperBat has been my OTP for quite a while now, trust me) and the first time ever when I posted my work on AO3. I honestly didn't expect that I will drown in the sea of your love. 
> 
>  
> 
> Very special thanks to [Albi](http://albi-art.tumblr.com/) who has been a #1 fan of this series since day one. She even made fan arts which you can find on her blog and I'm just... ;_; Thank you, darling!
> 
> ===I have a small request!===
> 
> I would like to know which chapter you liked the best. Please take a moment to submit your answer to this [strawpoll](http://www.strawpoll.me/10003890), I'm very curious!
> 
> Also if you have any questions, feel free to invade my askbox at powerdadbatman.tumblr.com  
> Or just write to me about your headcanons. Or if you're looking for someone to squee over Superman and Batman, I will always be there to squee with you. Go anon if you feel like it, I don't mind! 
> 
> So, once more with a feeling: thank you <3
> 
> Yours truly,  
> Vesper
> 
> EDIT: And now there's a playlist! [8tracks](http://8tracks.com/vesper-house/before-dawn) [YouTube](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLyhWFrVcsMJaJHCHAemkdUZ-TYGGW1huR)
> 
> EDIT2: I'm a dirty liar: [here's the continuation.](http://archiveofourown.org/series/465568)


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